The Little Phone That Swam. And The Crazy Woman Who Sunk.....

Last Wednesday afternoon, I went and picked up Lochie from school - something that is out of my routine, because he usually catches the bus - got him home and ran inside to quickly use the loo before I had to head out again to get Chelsea and Cadyn.  So in I run, pull down my dacks in a hurry, and then I hear it - Splash.  I recognise the sound immediately and turn around to find my beloved iPhone5 at the bottom of the toilet bowl.  Thankfully it was pre-wee, so I plunged my hand in and rescued thy phone and went about rapidly drying it in a towel and pulling the case off it!  All this whilst my pants were still around my knees - too much information I know!

Less than five minutes later, this is what my phone looked like....

Ms Midge on Instagram

And this is what I looked like.....

Source

What followed this little "incident" can only be described as panic, fretting, fear, loss, grief.....well, you get it?  Within the hour, I had jumped up and down, emailed and rung my husband (he was in a meeting godammit) and then absconded to the shopping centre with Lochie's old Nokia phone to get myself a new sim card.

Within a couple of hours, I realised I had no idea how to use a Nokia anymore, and retrieved my ollllldddddd iPhone3 from a friend who had been borrowing it.  I then exhaled.

Why am I telling you all of this?  Well, after 24 hours of using my uber slow old iPhone, I realised just how much I depend on my mobile phone.  I realised that I do not know my husband's phone number, nor the majority of my friends and family.  I realised my life is entered in to my iCalendar.  I realised I needed to get a life outside of my phone.....

So, where to from here?  Well, I'm very happy to report that after three days buried in rice, thinking my phone was long gone and never to be used again, my darling husband suggested the battery may be flat?  So I plugged it in.....

Flash! Ahhh-ahhhhhhh.......

The old gal (ok, so it's less than a year old) has life in her yet!  She still has a little condensation under the screen, but my friends around the world Google tells me this should dissipate eventually.

What have I learnt from this exercise?

I have learnt that I don't need to check my phone every ten minutes - because when you're using an old phone that is as slow as a freakin elephant, you can't be bothered checking it.  And I have learnt that I should not wander from my normal routines, because when I do, I forget shit and phones fall in toilets!  Yes - I'm blaming my 14 year old son for this whole thing!*

In all seriousness, I am almost embarrassed at how much I depend on this little device.  The fact that it basically lives on one side of my arse most days is a little worrying.  And on that note - where do I store my phone in Summer when I'm donning frocks?  Yes, it's been a long Winter.....

The moral of my story?

Don't keep your phone in your back pocket.  And memorise important phone numbers.  Note to self: take note of these.....

Tell me - where do you keep your mobile phone?  Ever had a "toilet incident"?  Did your phone live to tell the tale?  Spill.....

* Ok, maybe not the whole thing.  Just a little bit.

Raising a Child Takes A Village - Raising a Child with Social Media Involved Takes An Army.

If you've been around these parts for a while, you will know that I am partial to putting on my ranty pants.  I get my knickers in a knot about all kinds of interesting bullshit - but mostly about teenagers and the way things are today.

Enter today's post.

I think I'm doing an OK job as a parent.  I think that my eldest son's Dad and I, together with my husband and his Dad's partner, are banding together in some kind of strange unity to get him through these revolting teenage years.  If someone had of told me ten years ago that we would be working together, I would have laughed hysterically.  But a couple of months ago, when our son decided it was time to "up the ante" and test the proverbial waters, we all joined forces to SHUT THAT SHIT DOWN.

And it's worked.  So far.

What I AM struggling with, is being aware of everyone else's children.  Being aware of what they're up to, the shit they're getting in to.  And their parents being oblivious to it.  Hey, I'm not saying I'm perfect - clearly not.  It took almost six months for us to find out that our son had been feeding us bullshit sandwiches!  But in relation to social media - I'm on it.  I'm on his back - always have been, always will be.  We have explained to him what is and what is not acceptable when on social media applications.  That "liking" photos of scantly clad women with derogatory memes or FB pages called "Straya C*nt" not only offends me at times, it also shows up on all his other friends news feeds - including his grandmothers........ and that is NOT acceptable.  We have explained to him that just because a 15 year old girl has the username "Infinity_whore" (yes, you read that correctly), does not mean that it is OK.  It in fact means that she is not only degrading herself, she is allowing others to think it's OK to use such derogatory terms.  NOT OK.

I could go on.  And on.  And on.  I have so many tales to tell about instances we have had to pull him up and educate him on how we expect him to be using social media.  And how it doesn't matter whether other parents let their children use it - or in a lot of cases - don't give a shit about how their children use it.  What matters is how HE uses it.

I digress.  The reason I chose to write AGAIN about this, today, is because I have found myself in yet another quandary in regards to knowing about a child's behaviour and trying to decide whether or not to let said child's parents know?  I know the parents, from many years ago, but we are not friends as such.  I have stewed on the information for a couple of weeks now, debating how I would divulge the information?  Would I want to know if it were my young teenage daughter?  Would I want to hear it from someone else?  I put it out there late last night to my FB friends, and the resounding answer was YES.

So this morning I have been stewing further, going over several different drafts in my head, and have put it down in a FB message to before-mentioned Mother.  I am still yet to send it.

Earlier this year, I wrote this status on my personal FB page, after reading THIS post on MamaMia:

"Some of you already know this, but to everyone else - I will contact you if I see your kids posting inappropriately on social media, or if they're younger, just letting you know that their settings are public when perhaps you would like them to be private. I'm hoping you'd all do the same! Social media can be used so wonderfully - to engage with people in a wonderful way - it's such a shame that it gets used so shitfully at times. xx"

And a whole lot of friends agreed to do the same.  In the past couple of years, I've messaged, phoned and emailed parents when I've come across something I feel is either inappropriate or potentially dangerous with regard to their children.  It is always received gratefully, and in some instances, the parents have had absolutely no idea what Facebook or Instagram even are.

My best piece of advice?  Become an expert.  An expert on social media.  Learn how to use all forms of it.  And check in on your children.  See what they are "following", "liking" and laughing at.  Because without your direction and knowledge, they are trying to learn for themselves what is right and wrong.  They are learning from other kids, who possibly don't know what they're doing either.  Social media is a whole new world in terms of parenting.  I was trying to work out what to compare it to - but I've come up with nothing.  Nothing compares to the murky waters that social media has presented to us as parents.  And I hate to think that anything ever will.

Are you navigating the murky waters of teenagers and social media?  How's it working for you?

Who knew? Not me....

So I've been reading hysteria filled posts for months about the fact that Google Reader is closing down. As I read them, I thought "Hmmm, never heard of it" and wondered for a few seconds each time how I read my blog posts and why it wasn't on Google Reader??

Fast forward to a few days ago, when a lovely reader commented that they couldn't find my Bloglovin' follow button thingy, but added me anyway.  And press that fast forward button again to tonight when I finally mentioned said comment to my friend Alyce over at Blossom Heart Quilts.  She suggested that I should add the button for all the new Bloglovin' fashionistas, and to use her tutorial.  So I did.

And who knew?  Well, clearly not me - apparently all these years I HAVE been using Google Reader - in a round about fashion!  Yep, technologically challenged me figured out by signing up to Bloglovin' that when you follow all your blogs through your Blogger Dashboard, it does in fact link up with Google Reader.  Derrrrrrr.......  And I only found this out when I decided to give the "Import Blogs" button a crack.  And 334 blogs a following imported for me.  Ummmmm......

So here you have it friends - 

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

I'm working on adding the goddamn button!

xxxx

Sunday Stash #15 - I have Issues

My sewing room - aka The Shoe Box - has issues.  I have issues.  It's just one big issue.

Lack of space.  Lack of will to sort it out.

Here is a little virtual tour of my 2m x 3m (approximate size) room....

Looks relatively organised, until you head down to the bottom shelves.... This photo is taken from the doorway of the shoebox, to the right of my sewing desk.

Shelves disappearing under the disorganisation of fat quarters, layer cakes and charm squares.....

That clear box used to hold all my fat quarters.  Until I became addicted.  Now they're everywhere.  Taking over.

These shelves are to the right of the door of the shoe box.  Such a state of disarray.

My scrap box.  Well, the box they go in to before I get off my ass and move them to a bag.....

Like these.  Even my poor overlocker has been put in the shadows of my desk.

I'm sharing this because I'm hoping it will make me do something about it.  But I really don't know where to start?  How does everyone else store their fat quarters and pre-cuts?  How do you sort your scraps?  How, how, how?

Help!!!

I'm linking up with Sunday Stash being hosted by Sew Happily Ever After!  You can too!

Find Me A Soapbox!!!

I've just been aimlessly wandering around Facebook, you know, checking out what everyone's up to, reading inspirational quotes and looking at cute photos.  And then I see it.  Again. 

The word "retard".

Seriously, what year do we live in?  I could almost understand if we were still in 1485....

But we're not.  It's 2013, and this word has been well and truly outed as a derogatory term used to call people who have disabilities.  The fact that it is still used so widely to put people down, make fun of others AND give shit to people with disabilities makes me really cross.  Yes, I'm cross!

Now, I'm not perfect.  I think we've established that over the years.  However, I am a grown up.  I have grown up to realise that such derogatory terms should not be used.  That with growing up, you learn to use your vocabulary.  Broaden your knowledge and all that.  Apparently this does not happen to everyone?

Maybe I'm a little bit precious about this?  Maybe because I've spent the past 16 years of my life working with people who just happen to be living with intellectual disabilities, I'm a little bit touchy on the subject of derogatory labels?  Maybe.  Or maybe it is just because I'm a human being with empathy.  And common sense.

For God's sake people - start using your brain before you post something on a social media site that could potentially upset or offend your friends.  Think about the fact that you may very well have friends or family who actually have family members living with some type of disability.  And think about how you would feel if you child, sibling or someone you love was being called a "retard".

And yes, I am writing this very hasty and annoyance fuelled blog post because if I didn't, I would be blurting this all out on Facebook, possibly offending others who actually like to call people retards.  How is that right?

Ok.  Stepping down off my soap box.  For now.

Do you have any words or labels that really offend your sensibilities?  Share.

** Disclaimer - I am not saying I don't use labels for people - I use the words Dickhead, Idiot, F*ckwit etc quite often..... But it's generally very warranted!

What Annoys Me

Each morning, I pour myself a bowl of cereal and come upstairs to check emails and the interwebs.  This morning, I read a blog post from Mia Freedman, over at MamaMia.  And I sat here nodding in agreement, and shaking my head at the poor journalistic efforts of some knob called Joe Aston??  To put it in a nutshell, Mia said "My kids can call me Mummy.  Anyone else who uses it is being a dick."  And further "Using the term "mummy" as a patronising prefix to describe the things women read, write or say is becoming increasingly common.  Mummy blogs, Mummy porn, Mummy wars......they're all condescending put-downs and it's time we killed them off."  Perfectly said Mia!

Do you want to know what gets ME annoyed?  I brought it up in a little handmade business group I'm involved with, when someone asked what bugs others in regards to Facebook pages.  

I really don't like the term "Mummy" or "Mumma" when it comes to describing an item for sale, or when referring to one's customers or followers on a Facebook page.  

There.  I've said it.  It has always made me cringe a little, which some people don't understand.  So this is why....

Although I make clothing for children, and now, quilts for children too, I have always been very careful not to label my customers.  As much as I know that the majority of said customers are women and a vast majority of them, Mothers - I also know that I have many customers who are Aunts, Uncles, Dads and Grandparents.  I would never want to A. possibly offend someone who either isn't or can't be a Mum and B. Narrow my market, ie. labelling an adult's garment as a "Mumma Skirt" could turn away possible customers, or referring to your customers in your posts as "Mummas" could potentially kill off sales to women OR men who like your handiwork but are put off because of such terminology.

My point is that regardless of whether you are a WAHM or not, you have a wide audience and possible customer base, including Men.  So by addressing your likers as "Mummas" and only Mummas, you are narrowing your reach.  Yes, I am a mother to four kids, but I am by no definition only a Mother.  I am a woman.  So in my very humble opinion, garments and goods made for women should be labelled as being made for women - not only Mummas.

The lovely ladies in the before mentioned group and I had a great discussion about why such a thing would shit me to tears.  And thankfully it was all taken exactly the way I had intended.  To make people think about the labels and terminology they are using when marketing themselves or their goods to others.

So - what's annoying you?

** Disclaimer - I am in no way, shape or form some kind of marketing genius.  I'm just a woman, who happens to be a mother, who happens to have a somewhat successful little handmade business.

W.I.P. of a Different Kind

I don't know if you have noticed (If you're on FB) that Mr FB now asks "What's happening ................?" in the blank status space.  I've been giggling on and off about this for a couple of days now, because I'd really love to just blurt out what's happening here every time I see it, but know that the couple of hundred friends I have really do not want to know that Chloe just asked me to wipe her bum, or Cadyn is commentating his Playstation game.  They don't want to know that I'm stuffing my face with chocolate and sloshing down a Pepsi Max chaser.  And I certainly don't think I should bother sharing that I have just cleaned the shower or read more articles on Mamamia??

Well, tonight, in fact only minutes ago, I looked at it again and was about to give a spiel about what was happening here at home.  And I thought, No, I'll share it on the blog.  So here I am - raspberries to you FB!

So what IS happening??  A very strange thing is happening........my husband - he of the "not a home maintenance kind of man breed"- has all of a sudden become Mr Handy Man.  Before we went on holidays, I went to Bunnings and spent a small fortune on all matter of crappola in an effort to create motivation for finishing off a few things around the house.  One very hot day whilst at work, I called to see how his Sunday was going, and he was huffing and puffing.  "What are you doing?" I ask.  "I'm in the garden".........

*****Crickets*****

It turned out that he was in the garden for quite a few hours and also managed to oil the gate between the garage and house and also used the high pressure water machine I bought, to clean the front concrete path.  I was astounded, and very pleased.

When we returned from holidays on Saturday, as we were coming around the corner to home, he says "It's nice to come home to your own home".   O.K. then.  

Last night I informed him that we would be having a BBQ here in a couple of weeks, when my London bestie arrives in Melbourne.  She's moving back here after 15 years abroad, but will only be here for one night before going on holidays.  So a bunch of friends will be coming over.  A look of befuddlement greeted me, and he says "We'll have to buy a BBQ".  Yes, yes, we will have to buy a BBQ - because the husband I used to have left our BBQ out in the elements and is now rusty and dodgy.

Today, he calls me during his lunch break to say he's found a BBQ, and it's half price!  I've taught him everything he knows.  So proud.  He brought it home with him tonight and I helped him lug all of its 45 kilos in to the garage.  He then proceeded to tell me that before dinner he was going to clean to deck off, and then after dinner would be making another trip to Bunnings (this post is NOT sponsored by Bunnings) to get a couple more supplies, and would be punching the nails in that the builder never came back to fix, and would put a coat of oil on before bed.  O.K. then.

This is NOT the man I know!  But I LIKE him!

The "before" shot....

It really is so very, very lovely to see him so house proud, and actually getting amongst it..... Our home is one big work in progress!

Oh, and whilst I have your attention - Is there an easier way of getting those bloody dandelions out of the lawn other than digging them out one. by. one.????

The bane of my gardening existence!

Things To Do List - The Christmas Edition

I was at work today with a great chick, and we were both lamenting over the fact that we had no idea what we would be serving Christmas Day.  She hadn't started her Christmas shopping and we were wondering how on earth we would pull it all together?  And just to drain me even further, my Zen keeps getting misplaced stolen.  So, here is my to do list.....

1. Finish sewing the gifts that are half done on my sewing table.

2. Bake the Christmas cake.  The same one I made at work today without the aid of a beater.  I now have guns to rival He-man.

3. Do grocery shopping.

4. Write a list of what to get when grocery shopping.

5. Write the list BEFORE I go grocery shopping.

6. After said grocery shopping, change my mind about what we're eating Christmas Day and start all over again.

7. Investigate the option of ordering and picking up roast chickens on Christmas Day.  (Is this really an option!?!!?!?)

8. Call Family Assistance and see whether they have re-instated my child care rebate, which will in fact then put my debt to creche off the list.

9. Go to the city tomorrow morning to enjoy the spectacle of Christmas festivities with my littlest one.

10.  Figure out how we will fit 15 people at our table for Christmas lunch.

11. Find the KK gift I bought for my work Christmas dinner tomorrow night!

12. Take presents from hiding spot Christmas Eve only to find that one child has 80 presents and the others have five.....

13. Wrap presents.

14. Stop allowing people to steal my Zen!

15. Breath and enjoy myself....

Ten more sleeps til our Tassie break.  Not that I'm counting.

Are you making a list or just winging it???

Not Much of a Muchness

I have been a little quiet here of late.  Not on purpose.  I just really had nothing of interest to add to the blogosphere, nothing that I felt was blog-worthy.  I still really don't, so I'm having one of those random "open up blogger and blurt out whatever is in your head" kind of moments.  Here I am!

Last night our delightful little puppy dog - Hamish - decided he would channel his inner Houdini and escape.  Out in to the darkness, in a neighbourhood he has absolutely no knowledge of whatsoever.  We realised his little trick at approximately 9pm when Lochie went out to feed him. So the following hour was spent driving around the neighbourhood and printing out lame ass posters and sticking them on light posts in our immediate area.  I say lame ass because I literally could not find one single bloody photo of him, so it was a MISSING poster without an actual photo of him!

I went to bed exhausted, because between worrying about the frigging dog, and worrying that Jason would win X-Factor - I had fried my brain and could not function any longer!  Slumber arrived rapidly.  And disappeared approximately three hours later.

The delightful Chloe - aka "Go The F*ck To Sleep" - decided 2am would be an appropriate time to wake up, and continue being awake, until she had not only woken both Andrew and I up, but also her brother.  This fun torture ensued until I was confident she was back in bed, and Cadyn had ceased complaining about having something "killing his eye".  Slumber returned.

6.15am arrived with the sound of three over-enthusiastic and LOUD children downstairs.  I soon ruined their party by stumbling down the stairs with one eye open and questioning why the hell they were all so chipper at such a ridiculous time of the day?

"We've been awake since three o'clock Mum"

*********crickets********

WTF?!???!?!

Yep - it seems when slumber attacked my sleep-deprived body, dear little Chloe returned downstairs and got both Chelsea and Cadyn up, and they eventually gave up trying to get her back to bed - and decided on a few good early hours of television........

After shouting a few expletives, Chelsea crawled back to bed and I left the other two turkeys to continue watching Sponge-Bob.  And got another half hour of shut eye in before my alarm went off.

Upon waking - again - I wondered how the hell I was going to manage three over-tired children, a missing dog, un-washed hair and a 9.5 hour shift at work??  I went in to auto-pilot and sorted children out, left for work on time, watched Chloe in the rear vision mirror as she nodded off to sleep on the way to creche.  Wished the creche staff well upon my departure (yehhhh - good luck!!) and got to work right on 8am!  The following hour was made up of phone calls to all our local vets, RSPCA and the micro-chipping place - because as luck would have it, I of course had not gotten around to updating our details since moving...

As I then pondered my next move, I thought about the multitude of ridiculous fines I would be receiving if the council managed to find Hamish before someone else.  Because really, it would just be common sense to have him neutered, registered and kept in an escape-free backyard yes?  Apparently not.

Anyway - as luck would have it - one of the local vets called me back not long after to tell me a lovely lady had brought him in!  Hoorah!!  Thank f*cking God!!  Bank account exhales.....

It's hard work being exhausted after a night out on the town!

Butter.  Wouldn't.  Melt.

The rest of the day?  Well, it was very un-newsworthy, as it should be.  I spent the drive home with the car windows wide open, handing Chloe chocolate - just to keep her awake!  And all three kids were done and dusted and out like a light by 7pm.

PHEW

Anything exciting going on in your corner of the world?

The Wife

I've had this whirling around my head for days, and am now going to spill in all its glory.  It may not be pretty, but here goes....

I am a Wife.  I have a Husband.  We have a Family.  Those three statements are the most important in my life.  I take all three very, very seriously.  And I protect them ferociously.

I've felt as though I've had to protect them, come to their rescue, on a number of occasions.  And when I do - it is with great gusto.  Passion.  Emotion.  And imminent anger.

My husband and I went out Saturday night.  I drove an hour to drop our kids off, and an hour home.  I played music loud.  I put on a beautiful dress - AND HEELS.  Make-up, hair - the works.  I was going out as "the wife".

We met 15 others at a restaurant, I was introduced to people I had only ever met once before - fleetingly.  We had a beautiful meal, drank some lovely wine, and had some great conversations.  But I went in with my guard up.  I held on to my husband tightly and my senses were hyper-aware.

Then it happened.  The young, single, blonde made an evening that was about my husband - all about her.  And the intuition that I had had many months earlier was proven correct.  Once again, some 20 something girl thought it appropriate to drape herself over my husband.  In front of me.  In front of everyone.

My stomach lurched, my head was hurting.  I was embarrassed, felt like an idiot.  The comfortable atmosphere turned awkward and I was keen to make tracks.  But most of all - I was angry.  Pissed off that whilst my husband spends all day, every day, away from home earning a great living, so that we can have an awesome family life - this "woman" thought it appropriate to develop some sort of feelings for him, and even more alarmingly, thought it appropriate to display them in front of me.

We are ok.  The husband and I.  We are lucky.  For a very smart man, he can be very naive when it comes to women.  His personality, charm and endearing nature is what I fell in love with - so it should be no surprise to me, nor him, that other women would be enraptured?  My intuition has been correct before, and he's been horrified upon this realisation.

I know I'm not the only one who has gone through this sort of a situation.  One of my friends said her waxing lady (yes, that's what I said) told her today that a male client had taken it upon himself to send her flowers, not once, but twice.  She is married.  So is he.  He said he sent them "just because", she won't dare tell her husband because, well because it's just fucking wrong!!!!

So I want to know - What is the appeal?  Why are married people so damn appealling to others?  Does a wedding ring not signify to others "CLOSED TO ADVANCES"?  Discuss......

The One Where Parental Guilt Got The Better Of Me!

Approximately 26 hours ago, Andrew and I had a conversation with the kids about Halloween.  About how they would not be going trick or treating.  About how we didn't believe in Halloween.

At precisely 4.05pm today, as I got out of the car after a day at work, I was met excitedly by Chelsea and Cadyn who could not tell me quick enough how their friends' Mum was taking their friend trick or treating, and they were invited, and they really really really wanted to go, and it was life or death, and.....well you get the idea?

As I dragged my tired arse inside, along with Chloe's tired - I've been at creche all day - arse, I repeatedly said we had told them no last night.  In amidst all of the excitement, Chloe miraculously woke up and was all of a sudden raring to go.  I told the kids they'd put me in a really crappy situation, because I would look like a mean Mummy if I said no.  They concurred.....

So at precisely 4.25pm I had three even more excited kids throwing on costumes and their silly sucked in Mum using the green eyeshadow I didn't even know I owned to make them all look "ghoulish".  We then jumped in the car and drove to above mentioned friends' house, and proceeded to paint other kids faces and carve a pumpkin face?!?!

Yes, it was lovely to see the kids so excited and dressed up amusingly.  Yes, it was lovely to see the smiles in their eyes when people opened their doors and actually showed some excitement towards them.  But no, it still is not my thing!

I'm not usually sucked in by the kids - but tonight, they won hands down!

Excitment +

See that masterful Pumpkin Face?!?!?

Tired little Fairy Witch!

Do you suffer from parental guilt?  Do you "like" Halloween??

The Door

I'm sure that tantalising title just made you rush right here to read?  Thought so!

Yep, this door.  Our toilet door.  After living in this house for three and a half months - we finally got our new toilet door hung today!  In the scheme of things, I know it's no big deal.  But we had every single door replaced in this house before we moved in, all except this one.  This very special door was also apparently a huge pain in the ass.  It was measured and ordered multiple times before the correct size was finally delivered.  And then we waited patiently frustratingly another few weeks to have it hung.  Which was Monday just past.  After a couple of hours of banging, drilling and getting high on the smell of putty, the builder came to declare he was finished.  But instead asked us to come and see why - in his words - he is a dickhead.  He'd hung the door on the opposite side of the door jam - and right on finishing hanging and beginning the painting,  discovered it was on THE WRONG SIDE.  Which just happened to cover the light switch......

Fast forward to this morning when it was correctly hung, painted and left in peace for the day.  Joy!

You may remember my post months ago when I announced we had bought our first house?  Well, the last few months have been met with much excitement, frustration, phone calls, money and tradesmen.  And we're nearly there!  We've I've finished decorating a few of the rooms, so thought I would share......

The all important laundry.  Somewhere I spend way too much time.  I just bought those drawer thingies from Ikea to see me through until I decide on what sort of cabinetry I need in there to solve my throwing things around in a tanty......

Kid's bathroom.  Boring but functional!

Chelsea's bedroom!  I love love love her room - and so does she!  I made her rag quilt and am pleased to say she uses it all the time.  I also made her cushion and put together those painful pom poms hanging from her ceiling!

And I covered a cork board for her to use to hang her crap on - but I need to get longer thumb tacs to use!

Terrible lighting = shit photos.  But this is our front lounge room.  The mirror was bought to hang in our bedroom, but was too damn big for where I wanted it.  I'm glad it was because I love it on that wall!  My other favourite thing is the big turquoise cushion - I bought it from Ishka and Andrew is not a fan.  Which makes me love it even more!  You can't see in this photo, but to the right is a gorgeous big bright red floral print canvas!  Yet another of Andrew's favourites.......

I picked this heavy timber sign/hanging up from one of those daily deal email things that pop up - it was $26!!!  It hangs in our back living room - which is currently doubling as my laundromat so did not get featured in tonight's post!

We still have a long way to go.  Next week, we are hoping to get our new driveway done - weather permitting.  The staircase has been sanded and under-coated and is awaiting its gloss (which will take weeks of painstakingly tedious work) and the deck and backyard are yet to be completely sorted.  But all good things come to those who wait - so I'll try and be patient!

And on a completely different note - my Out To Sea Market Night went relatively well last week!  I declared I would donate 10% of the night's sales to Foundation 18 - so I'm chipping in $35!  Doesn't sound like a huge amount, but every little bit helps.  If you're feeling charitable - pop over and chip in a few dollars for their fabulous funding for the kids of Indonesia.

Is your home a work in progress?  Do you have a toilet door?

Breaking News

I was wasting time this evening wandering through Myer and was suddenly smacked in the face with this COMPLETELY OUT OF PLACE scenery!

Seriously - It's September 14th - WTF?!?!

And then found this explanation......

Oh, of course, we're early!  Apparently we have to wait until the 20th of September to buy our Christmas decorations.  How remiss of me!  Lucky I'm not easily inconvenienced Myer!

 Honestly......what hope do we have in this world when we are at risk of being inconvenienced by NOT having Christmas decorations in store by the 14th of September?!?!

Is the world getting crazier?  Or am I getting crankier???

Sun Day Random

Sun Day?  Not in Melbourne.....More like Grey Day.  And not in a 50 shades kind of way.....  I've worked all weekend so have not really stepped foot outside except to transfer this lame ass body of mine from home to vehicle, vehicle to workplace.  Oh, I lie - we went over to our friends house last night for a relaxing bat-shit-crazy evening!  Celebrating children's birthdays is never relaxing, but I may say - hanging out with three of our closest families is fun none-the-less.  Last night it was eight adults and nine children.  NINE.  Would have been ten, but Lochie is with his Dad - he escaped the madness.  In the haze that is my head at present (currently on day 11 of an epic migraine/headache) I was able to sit back relatively quietly and watch the unbridled fun and madness unfold.  It's amazing how much joy can be gained from setting up a bean bag at the bottom of ONE step and continually running and jumping on it?  Lucky for all of us, this round of bean bag diving did not end in tears.

Tonight, I have arrived home from work to an empty house.  Bliss.  Kudos to the AFL big-wigs who schedule the odd 4.40pm game at the MCG, allowing me some contemplative peace and quiet, to think of the million things I have ahead of me this coming week.  And a big hi-five to Andrew, who so capably packs up the three youngest kids and jumps on a train to the city - all in the name of cheering on your team!

This morning was my designated "sleep in day"....... Fail.  The all too common sound of "Mummmmmmm" at 7.28am woke me from a deep slumber.  I pretended not to hear it, hoping (in vain) that Andrew would rise instead.  "Mummmmmmmmm" continued.  So I rolled out and trotted to Chloe's room, to find a wet and cold little girl in bed.  She hasn't wet the bed in  months, so me thinks she too is very tired.  Got her dressed and set up in front of the tv and crawled back to my bed.  Closed my eyes and just lay there for the next 30 minutes.  Fail.

In my usual flurry that comes with a 10.30am Sunday shift, I got ready for work and then decided it would be the perfect time to vaccuum the house.  Of course.  But before I could say "Pick all your shit up off the floor" to everyone, I pulled Chelsea's curtains back and audibly gasped as I discovered Chloe's version of Van Gogh's "Starry Night" on the wall.  Fab.  HOW on earth did I get through FOUR freakin kids before one of them decides she is an artist?  A wall artist?  This child will be the death of me.  As will the frickin fours!  Thank God for Gumption (that's not an ode to my inner strength or courage, it's a life-saving white paste that cleans almost everything off anything!).  Little turkey sat and tried washing it off like I asked, and then watched as the gumption magically scrubbed off her masterpiece.

The never-ending project that is our home is *hopefully* coming to and end.  Well, to a point.  The lovely fellow we signed up to do all the works for us got a job a week after we moved in, so it slowed all of the finishing off right down.  It has been a bit of a nightmare, mostly because we are all living in a half-finished home.  Doors missing, or not closing properly amongst some of the little things irritating me.  But he's assured us he only has a couple of days left, and fingers crossed, will be done by end of day Wednesday.  Hoorah.  NOW the other stuff begins.  We've just got the quote for the new driveway, and are pleasantly surprised with the price.  Hallefuckinglujah!  We can't park in our driveway at present because of the swamp disguising itself as a front yard.  It's mud central.  That's the other thing on the list - flying my retired plumber Dad down from Queensland to lay ag-pipe through the whole yard in the hope of reducing its bog-like resemblance.  Oh, and the cracked pipe.....the list goes on.....

Andrew is off to Sydney next weekend.  Each year he flies off somewhere with a mate or his Dad, to watch the footy.  I'm wondering if it would be inappropriate to secretly purchase flights for the kids to the same destination and meet him at the airport with their luggage?  Then I could just toddle back home and sleep for two days?  No?

Okay, I've successfully tapped away here for a little bit, now what to do with my last hour or so of peace before a week of bedlam begins.....all over again?  Do you sometimes feel like you are living a never-ending version of Groundhog Day?

P.s. The farking cat has not even gone near the freakin lounges!!!  So disappointed not to see her reaction to the sticky paws - I had a video camera set up so I could win a million dollars on Funniest Home Videos.....shame.  I, however, have been stuck to it numerous times........

P.s.s.  I didn't really have a camera set up.  But now I think of it......

Water

Lots of holding on whilst google searching
pictures of water!
infralight.com.au

Amazing title yes?  Maybe no??

This may be a very dis-jointed post, basically because I need to pee what seems like every ten bloody minutes.  Since my crazy Bikram jaunt two days ago, I have been drinking like a frigging fish, and weeing like a pregnant woman.  Have no fear, don't even ask - I'm not preggers.  No, no, I have been HYDRATING oneself.  Because that is what one does when one sweats like the proverbial pig during 90 minutes of hell.  I have NEVER felt the need to drink so much water in my entire life.  And considering that I generally only drink a few glasses of pepsi max every day, it's a shock to my system.   BRB - going to pee.....

Following my class from hell, I sat at the top of the stairs as we were meant to be leaving for basketball and told Andrew I thought I would be sick.  He told me I needed an energy drink.  Fab.  So on the way he stopped at 7-eleven and got me a watermelon flavoured Gatorade.  Enter gagging noise.  Honest to God - who in their right mind drinks those drinks willingly???  Well, me.  I got through a whole game of basketball, scoring nonetheless, sipping on watermelon salty/sugary flavoured water.  And managed to hold on til half time to run to the loo.  I questioned the validity of drinking so much fluids when it only stayed in my body for such a short period of time?  Why drink all that water when it just ends up coming out the other end??

I continued my water marathon all. bloody. day.  And much to my amazement, drank a whole bottle of the stuff whilst watching Chloe's swimming lesson this morning, and just had another glass before sitting down to bang this baby out.  I'm in awe of myself.  Oh, hang on......gotta go wee again!

We went out for dinner with one of my besties and her new beau Saturday night, and she reiterated to me once again, that she cannot believe how many times I need to wee!  She has known me over 20 years, and giggles at the lack of accommodation in my bladder.  I dream of nights going to bed and not waking up until I've had a restful eight hours of sleep - and not having to make a trip to the loo.

Given - I've had four kids.  My bladder is not what it used to be.  Not even close.  And I can't say that I'm doing regular Kegel exercises.  In fact, I would do them now, but I need to go wee again.......sigh.

So it would seem that not only has Mr Bikram given my muscles a rude awakening (I shit you not - I had forgotten I had lower abdominal muscles until yesterday, when I woke with soreness in places I did not believe could be sore) it has also awakened my bladder, and the fact that I should probably start doing something about it, if I do not want to start sporting elastic waisted pants with a low crotch - allowing more room for my Tena lady.....

Do you drink water and does it make you feel like you are bordering on incontinence???  Help!

Out of Whack

That would be Me.  Out of whack.  My world of routine, roster and all else that goes with it, has gone straight out the window!  This time last week we were finally "home owners".  Papers - signed, sealed and delivered.  A very surreal feeling.  I may have owned a home before (in my past marriage life), but this time round it is about five times more expensive, with four more little and not so little people in the gang.  Which in turn means there is four times as much SHIT to pack.  Or throw out.  Or pass on to others.  Lots of that going on here.  Re-homing I like to call it.

So my house looks like the proverbial bomb has gone off - and nobody has survived.  Until the end of the day when they all return home to the bomb site and do nothing to help the situation!  Everybody quite happily sits amongst the boxes - whether they be packed or empty.  Chloe prefers to play castles with the empty ones.  Helpful.  But cute.  I thought we had packed all of Cadyn's toys and other crap, but NOOOOOO, his room still looks like nothing has left it.  And the girl's room..........beyond belief how two little kids can have so much STUFF, so you re-home half of it, and again - it looks as though nothing has moved.  Sigh.

The new house.  It's coming along in leaps and bounds.  Every single door in the place has been replaced, which makes a ridiculously big difference.  We have a new pergola/deck.  Gorg-wah.  And tomorrow - demolition day.  We have a couple of great friends and their boys who are going to give us a hand to rip out all floor coverings and window coverings and anything else that needs to go!  I think it may just be the therapy I need.  Because although I have not been living at the house whilst all this busy-bee work has been happening - I have had to schedule it ALL.  Making sure shit gets delivered before it it needed.  It's actually rather exhausting.  And mind-boggling.  But very rewarding when the results can be seen....

The kids finished up at their school today.  I felt kind of guilty, because I was so happy.  So happy to be leaving.  Is that bad?  No.  No, it's a good thing.  I'm leaving behind a wholelottabullshit and drama. And moving to a school where I do not know one.single.person.  And whilst that scares me just a little teeny bit - it's also very appealing.  

Chelsea and Cadyn were given a lovely send-off today, from their teachers and peers.  And I was blessed to spend the final assembly amongst the dearest of friends I have made there.  Women who have never bought into the wholelottabullshit sector of the school.  Women who have held me up and helped me get through some pretty shitty situations.  Women I will NEVER FORGET.

In precisely 11 more sleeps, we will be in our new house.  Our new suburb.  It's a strange but comforting thought.  Hopefully I will be back IN whack by then!

Ps.  Did I tell you school holidays begin today?  God give me strength......

Just Another Manic Monday......

Make that Wednesday week........This is how my day was MEANT to go:

Wake up bright and cheery after a restful eight hours sleep.

Find children have all woken up, made themselves breakfast and are dressed and ready for school.

Leisurely stroll through the shower, thinking about the clean house and cooked dinner I will arrive home to this evening, because, of course, my housekeeper will have that all sorted for me.

Dry my hair, slip on a gorgeous new outfit, gather the kids in the car and drop them at their destinations before finally pulling in to work......

INSTEAD - this is what I got:

Wake up to the sound of my annoying farking iPhone alarm at 7am and raise my eyebrows in amazement that I have any energy to turn it off.  

Vaguely remember getting up twice to the barking dog  Cadyn's relentless coughing, managing not to knock myself out when I tripped over someone's shoes in the darkness of the hallway.

Run from bedroom to bedroom shaking children and reminding them that it's WEDNESDAY and they have to move their arses.

Have a shower and wash my hair in record time and once again amaze myself that I have not slipped on the squeaky toy left in the bottom of the bath.

Dry my hair in record time, remarkably managing to look half decent.  Throw on some clothes that look reasonably clean and pass the smell test.

Run from bedroom to bedroom once again shaking children, reminding them that I will lose my proverbial shit if they don't get out of bed NOW.

Make sure each child has something in their stomach, they are wearing clothes and they have something resembling a packed lunch to put in their bag.

Shoo them all out the door and into the car, before burning rubber to get them all to their destinations before heading down the freeway to my dreaded First Aid Refresher course.

Now I HATE training.  But in my line of work, we have first aid AND CPR refreshers, Fire training, Oxygen training, rectal valium & enema training (I have been fortunate to dodge these ones for 16 years now!) and so on and so forth.  I DO NOT LIKE IT.  So when I turn up to a hotel to do this said training, I am not pleased to find it's like an icebox.  Not when it's only five degrees outside.  Not pleased at all.

THEN Mr Smooth enters the building.......... Not once in my life have I encountered anyone remotely interesting to look at, being my trainer.  Such a pleasant surprise!

The morning goes relatively quickly, regardless of the fact that I am surrounded by people who endeavour to make my ears bleed with their ridiculous questions whilst also arguing medical information.

And then I get a phone call - from the kid's school.  Cadyn is sick.  I knew this.  I sent the poor bugger to school thinking he would be ok because I could not cancel this training AGAIN, after doing so last month when another child was sick!  Then began a mad ten minutes of calling anyone and everyone who could possibly pick him up from school, so I did not have to return to this HELL and start the training day all over again!  Struck gold with the mother in law and returned to Mr McDreamy-trainer.

Get home to find Cadyn has been throwing up from all the coughing, so make a Doctor's appointment. Leave the two big kids home, and speed to creche to pick Chloe up, then speed to the Doctor's.  Text instructions to Lochie to cook vegetables.  Get the diagnosis of croup and asthma (again - seriously, how old until he grows out of croup??) and collect my multiple scripts and drop them at the chemist.  Call Lochie and tell him to cook schnitzel - "Mum I don't know how to cook schnitzel!" - hang up on Lochie.

Speed home thinking I have half an hour until I have to take Lochie to basketball training........walk in the door to find that he DOES indeed know how to cook schnitzel.  Then he casually asks me if I am going to take him to training - which starts in five minutes!?!?!  FARK!!!!!

Turn cook top off, speed to training, drop him off, speed to chemist, pick up scripts, speed home.  FINALLY SIT DOWN AND EAT SOME DINNER.

Some days, I just wish things were a bit easier.  So I could be less frazzled.  And avoid the possible speeding fines that will be arriving in my letter box in approximately one week's time.

Does this sound like your life?   The second bit, not the bullshit first couple of paragraphs - not sure I want to know if you have it so good!!!

PS. It doesn't help that I spend most of my waking hours now wondering who will play Dr Grey in the movie version of "50 Shades of Grey"........I know who I would cast - do you?